The Sabbath

I had a student ask me in class once, "What do you believe?"

I assumed she meant faith-wise and answered, "That's a big question."

She helped me out a little by asking if I was Catholic or Baptist or some other denomination. So I told her I was a Seventh-day Adventist. But it bothered me that I couldn't really get into it that much. A person's belief structure is so much more than the church they attend and the scriptures they read. The experiences, people, situations they encounter and find themselves in shape what they think of life, the universe, and everything.

Because it's Friday, it only seems right to begin with my belief in rest. I believe that we are created (another belief to be explored later) to break down if we don't take time to stop. A lot of people believe this, hence the concept of a weekend that many people get to take advantage of regardless of religion or spirituality. But even with this weekend, people need to really unplug.

Enter the Sabbath. Since the beginning of their recorded history, Jews have kept every seventh day as a day of rest with guidelines about what people should and should not be able to do. Growing up, of course, these "limitations" from the Bible were just that. But as I work and stress and strive and fret, removing the sense of obligation from my life for 24 hours is the most rejuvenating experience. There could be no way I could last from week to week without taking time out and focus on what God has provided for me.

I struggle with some Sabbath issues still. Are there things that I should be giving up ever Saturday? For now, though, I need to hone in on God for my strength, from there, "the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace."

I Don't Want to Forget This Image

The sunrise looked like God has spilled triple-berry smoothie across the sky.

The Kindness of Strangers

It was cold. The first snowfall, actually. Amy had left early to go exercise before work. I was trying to hustle along as the week had been leaving piles of work for me to sort through. I was doing well, getting out of the house a good ten or fifteen minutes earlier than usual. As I closed the door, I remember thinking that I had better close it tightly because it sometimes doesn't want to latch. I yanked quite hard. Satisfied with my secure home, I began down the steps toward the garage, feeling my pockets as I went. As I patted each leg, the jingle and jangle that I have become accustomed to was not to be heard.

"Oh, no."

I leapt back to the door to see if I had, maybe, not secured it as well as I had hoped--no luck. It was not yet 7:00, and nearly every house was still dark. As I looked up and down the street, wondering who to wake up, I saw a man come out of his house and begin scraping his windshield.

"Hurray, hurrah!"

I shuffled over there, but he had made it back inside his house before I got there. I had seen him many times before, but never talked to or introduced myself to him. So I stood, knock, knock, knockin' on Tahim's door. He opened and said, "Good morning."

"Hi," I said. "We've not met. I'm Cale, and I locked myself out of my house."

He invited me in and gave me his cell phone so I could call my wife. She didn't answer. She was probably just ending her routine or maybe showering off. Either way, her voice mail was not a welcome message.

"Is she going to call back?" Tahim asked.

"She will after a bit, but it's cool. She'll call my..." I remembered that my phone was in my house with keys. "Dang it."

"Just keep mine, then."

I had never thought of cell phones in this way. You can let somebody have it for a while and it will be useful wherever they go. But I instantly thought of people abusing the privilege. The thought had either never occurred to Tahim, or it didn't bother him. He then told me that he needed to take his daughter to school, and that I should make myself comfortable. So I sat in his house for a good twenty minutes with nobody else there--it's a weird thing to do if you've never been given the chance.

At this point, when I was telling my students, some of them asked if I snooped around or mentioned how easily I could have stolen something...ugh. Brilliant idea. I could take his stuff and sit outside my house where I wouldn't be able to stash the stuff.

Anyhow, he came back and we got to talking about religion and how people ruin religion's name by taking it in the wrong direction and turning it into something it's not supposed to be. We spent a good half hour talking before my wife made it home.

Despite taking 40 minutes to drive to school and missing my first class, my day was great because I knew that humanity was alive across the street.

He's totally getting special Christmas cookies this year.

Amusing Times

To hear a strange phrase or three come from my class is no rarity, and I realized that the vast majority of those phrases come from my face. Today, though, the oddities of class discussion were generously provided by some of my theater students as they discussed recent one-act competition.

"Did you see Jesus? He was so hot."

And no, they weren't talking about a Latino. Apparently, one of the plays was The Bible in 30 Minutes or something to that effect. I can't even imagine just how irreverent it had to have been, and even if it were classy, the casting choice for Jesus was obviously inspiring something not-so-Biblical.

"Wasn't he Christian?"

This wouldn't have been so amusing. But what I gathered is that "Christian" was the actor's name. I would have thought that the conversation could not have become much more entertaining, but another guy piped up.

"He wasn't Christian, he was Jewish."

It's a Small World

Most of my classes are little representations of the planet. The diversity is so real, you can almost feel it when you walk into the room. Kids from every continent (sans Antarctica) grouped together in a class of 23 students.

With recent events in the United States, we have been talking a lot about race relations and how things may change over the next four years. In doing so, I had one particular students emphasize the need for the term "African-American" instead of saying "Black." This sparked a rowdy debate about what people should say for every person under the sun. It was all put to rest though by Josh, a kid that normally makes me cringe when he starts his diatribes. But today:

"I'm just a guy. On one side, I'm Irish, and on another, I'm Russian. But I'm really just a guy."

It thrills me that some people can state so plainly that racial issues can be left behind when we focus not on the skin, but on the person inhabiting that skin.

Mmm...Fire

This weekend was The Singe with good friends in Missouri. It reminded me of how much I like fire. With the constant drizzle which will no doubt slick up the roads tonight, I craved flamage in my home. I have a handful of techniques to unwind at the end of the day, but I think this is the new favorite. Here I am dinkin' away online with some logs burning four feet away. I love the smell of burnt paper, and there's just a tinge of it wafting around.

I didn't even have a bad day, but if I did, this would definitely cure it.

Therapy Sessions

A new blog. Why, exactly? In Monster Meditation, I tried to have something to keep up with writing for accountability's sake. Recently, I've found that work has been taking a toll, and I've been wanting to scream a bit more. I think that it's good to get that kind of thing out, but I was thinking today of how I should work on something a bit more positive. Tranquilizing the Tantrums exists for the soothing of the soul. I want to create a place where anyone can come and find something that can make their day better. it seems a bit sappy, I admit, but I'm pretty sure that aiming for something that makes the digital world a better place is worth while. I don't have any set schedule aside from, if I get angry, I will show up to this therapy session and find a positive something in the world. Also, if something is great, I want to be able to share in this collection. Entries may be similar if not the same as those on Monster Meditation, but not always. So come back often and make this a big, old therapy session.